The Faerie's Eye
by Spazioaether
Summary: Rumours said the sky captain of The Faerie's Queen had the faerie's eye. According to legends, the eye was the medicine for everything. A cure everyone sought after, but only one man possessed. When the world slowly turned from the steam engine to the apparently more efficient diesel engine and war was not far off between the countries, one man held the key to survival.


This was just a short story I had to write for my college fiction class. People loved it and a few friends wanted me to post it. Enjoy.

* * *

Rumours said the sky captain of The Faerie's Queen had the faerie's eye. According to legends, the eye was the medicine for everything. A cure everyone sought after, but only one man possessed. When the world slowly turned from the steam engine to the apparently more efficient diesel engine and war was not far off between the countries, one man held the key to survival.

Yet, he stood in Sakura no Buki-ya, a weapons shop found on one of the floating isles harbouring the aether stones which were used to hold up the sky pirate ships. Some of the isles were used to harvest the stones for the ships, but once the stones were running out, people turned towards diesel. There were still many, like the sky pirates who preferred the aether stones and steam over the diesel engines in hopes of gaining the surprise on unsuspecting prey because it was quiet; the downfall was that diesel engines were able to manoeuvre faster. Thanks to the faerie's eye and his association with the magical creatures, Arthur already tended to shy away from newer technology and instead stuck to the more archaic ways. Which was the very reason why Arthur stopped at the port, New Albion, home to people who did not mind dealing with pirates.

"Arthur, you should be careful. The world police will soon go after all the pirates, sea and sky," the arms merchant, Kiku Honda said quietly with a Japanese accent, as Arthur handed the short man a list of weapons and ammo.

"Oh, are you worried about the gold?" Arthur asked, taking a cloth sack from his hip. Gold pieces clinked together as he placed it on the counter. "Please do not worry. I know you want the gold first before the shipment."

"Arthur, I am worried about you, not the gold. You always pay on time," Kiku said, his face set in a frown, and brows knitted together delicately to show his worry.

"They can come if they wish. I would rather die as a pirate than as some dog for the military. Besides, you forget, my crew is one of the best," Arthur said as he looked around the shop. Nothing had changed since the last time Arthur had been inside the shop and that was roughly four months ago. "Take care Kiku."

"You as well Arthur," Kiku bowed respectfully to Arthur, who returned the favour with the nod of his head. Just as Arthur started to close the door behind him, he thought he heard the man mutter a little more. "You should really allow others to worry over you. Many people support you."

Arthur decided not to linger too much on those words before his usual cold demeanour would slip. He knew others cared for him, but he could not afford to allow himself to become complacent with the thought. It would just hold him back from doing what he did best, which was lead the sky pirate crew he had mustered and take on anyone he sought fit, be it the military the world had created once the aether started to become a problem, or when it came to attacks from other pirates. He had to protect the faerie eye as much as possible before someone else was left with the cursed thing.

He briskly walked a few paces to the left of the shop before turning left onto another dirt road of the city he was in. The city was named New Albion and became the hotspot for many of the sky pirates to make deals or to find protection from the cruelty of the world. The street Arthur had just left held most of the merchant traders who had no qualms with the dealings of pirates as long as they were paid, usually in gold right away. For some like Kiku, once a pirate gained their trust, a sort of tab was opened and the pirates paid in either instalments or the next day when the supplies were brought to the ship. Arthur normally paid up front.

The street Arthur traversed now, held mostly the entertainment or places for food. At times Arthur allowed his crew to come and enjoy themselves, but he mostly preferred to dine in a particular place, Chez François. The restaurant was owned by a French chef, who found serving pirates was rather enjoyable as long as they had not consumed too much alcohol. Chez François was a rather quiet place during the day, which is when Arthur loved to come. There were few people on the streets at mid-day, those who were not on the streets tended be working or were still sleeping off the stupor from the previous night's endeavours which left Arthur to enjoy not having to weave in and out of sweat ridden bodies.

"Mon cher, I was wondering when you were going to pop in," the owner, Francis Bonnefoy said brightly when Arthur opened the door to come in. The air was warmer than the cool constant breeze from the floating island.

"Yes, well how could I give up an opportunity to make fun of your bloody accent?" Arthur smiled as he took his usual seat at the bar. None of the other chairs in the restaurant were filled and so it was only Arthur and Francis besides the workers in the back, who rattled around rather noisily. Arthur decided he could allow his guard to drop for a little bit since he was with an old friend.

"Oui, and I shall show you just how superior French cooking is to whatever you call food," Francis said, grinning as he pulled his wavy blonde locks into a pony-tail at the base of his neck.

"People in the world just have no appreciation for a well baked scone is all," Arthur said, leaning on the bar. "What do you have on the menu today?"

"Are you afraid I'm going to poison you mon cher?" Francis said mockingly before disappearing behind a door and into the kitchen.

Arthur shook his head, but thanked Francis for keeping the conversation away from heavier thoughts. It had been four months since his last visit to the island and just as Kiku had warned earlier, Arthur had seen the signs of the world changing. Rumours spoke of pirates, both air and sea, were disappearing and the world military slowly becoming stronger. Arthur had evaded most of the advancements made by the military, but even he would run out of luck sooner or later. As he sat in the chair, he touched the eye patch on his right eye. Would he still have chosen to become a pirate if he had never gotten the faerie's eye in the first place? Arthur found it hard to think of any life besides the one he had now, but he slowly grew tired of leading pirates. Perhaps it was finally time try and become a respectable adult for once.

"Here we go," Francis said as Arthur looked at the plate of food suddenly put in front of him. When had the bloody frog come back? "Are you okay mon cher?"

"Fine. Peachy even, I suppose," Arthur said, mouth-watering at the aroma of the food. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes and savoured the flavour, a small hum of delight escaped him. Arthur would never admit it, but Francis was the best cook Arthur had ever come across.

"And how is it?" Francis asked as he propped his elbow on the bar and watched Arthur eat.

"Good," Arthur replied, continuing to eat his meal.

"Just good? Arthur, you should praise my cooking more," Francis said with a smile.

"Be the chef on my ship and I just might," Arthur said playfully, knowing the other would refuse, just as he always did.

"You know I hate flying," Francis said with a strained smile. A glint of sadness filled his sapphire eyes. "But if I liked to fly, who knows. Perhaps I would have joined your crew."

Arthur held the fork in his mouth for a moment. The life of a pirate was no life for this man. Francis was too soft to be able to kill ruthlessly or out of necessity and Arthur found himself knowing he could never make Francis kill someone.

"That life is not for a man like you," he decided to say after he took out the fork and chewed his food thoughtfully.

"How long are you staying this time?" Francis asked, the easy smile he wore earlier was replaced by a frown. Arthur hated to see that frown, not just on Francis, but on anyone he had interacted with for so long. It meant they worried over his well-being, and honestly they did not need to.

"Just today. Kiku is bringing supplies in the morning and then off we go. The crew is restless and the military is making a move," Arthur said with a shrug. If he acted indifferent towards the man's advances to care for him, perhaps Arthur could stop the growing warmth that would melt the icy barrier around his heart.

"You prickly stubborn Englishman. If you would just allow everyone to care for you, the military would not find you," Francis said with a huff of irritation. Arthur smirked, the reaction he wanted.

"No one needs to worry over the pirates. We have our code and we stick to it, unlike the military dogs. We will prevail over them," Arthur said with ease, almost believing the nonsense coming from his mouth.

"Do you even hear yourself talk?" Francis asked with a sigh.

"By the way, this was not on your menu the last time I checked," Arthur said, finishing up the plate.

"Oui, I have two Italian brothers working for me. They were on Antonio's ship, but he asked if I would watch over them for the time being. I haven't heard from him since then. That was about two weeks ago." Francis looked behind him at the door. A lad who looked through the window suddenly disappeared. Arthur chuckled at the vanishing act. "They are good cooks, but they worry for Antonio."

"If I see him out and about I'll tell him," Arthur said to reassure the other, even if the news made him rather uncomfortable. Antonio was a rather cautious sky pirate captain, if he had the lads stay with Francis, then perhaps there was trouble brewing faster than he had anticipated. "Thanks for the meal bloody frog."

"Till next time Arthur," Francis said with a sad smile. "There better be a next time."

Arthur nodded his head as he left a few gold coins on the bar's counter and left the restaurant. He had his fun. It was time to get back on the ship and to figure out what the hell the military dogs were up to. Sticking his hands in his pockets, Arthur whistled a merry tune as he took his time to return to the ship. Just as he passed the weapons shop to get back to his ship, he heard heavy footsteps behind him. There were more people who flitted through the streets, but the footsteps sounded purposeful and continued to follow him a good deal towards his ship. A wolfish grin graced Arthur's lips as he continued to whistle his tune and walk down an alleyway. No need to get anyone else involved after all.

"Are you Arthur?" a deep accented voice asked, as the two finally entered the alleyway. Arthur could not place the accent, which made him a little weary of his advisory.

"You know, it is rather impolite to enquire about someone's name when you have yet to introduce yourself," Arthur said, turning around to see the stranger.

He was tall, much taller than Arthur himself, but it was not the stranger's height that made him intimidating. It was the menacing air he brought with him, making Arthur shiver a little, the phrase 'beware the Russian bear' came to mind. He wore a thick long winter coat in the colours of grey from the world military uniform and the left chest of his coat was covered with a few medals. So the world military was starting to set their eyes on the island, perhaps Arthur would have to steer clear of it now.

"Funny, I never thought a pirate would lecture me about manners," the stranger said with a polite smile. Arthur took an involuntary step back, unsure of the dangerous potential this man held. "Why not, I am Ivan Braginsky. I'm with world military."

"What do you want with me? I have yet to do anything illegal here. I bought everything on me," Arthur said, wondering just how the dogs of the military had actually managed to get themselves on the island without Arthur's knowledge.

"I have interest in your eye," Ivan said, finally replacing the polite smile with a smug grin. "I have many uses for it."

"Well, I am truly sorry, but I have no idea as to what you are referring to." Arthur looked about him in an attempt to find a way out of the situation. He had protected the eye for quite some time, he was not about to hand it over to the world military so easily. Who knew what the military would do with the faerie eye since not even Arthur was quite sure of its cast power.

"I was hoping you would say such thing," Ivan said, taking out what looked to be a metal pipe of sorts. Honestly, it made Arthur want to laugh at the strange weapon, but instead pulled out his own rapier he carried with him.

"I guess, I'll just have to fight my way through," Arthur said with a shrug.

Yet as he took a defensive stance to allow Ivan the first move, a knife was at his throat. His skin itched unbelievably at the touch of the ice cold blade, but Arthur dared not move. A pale long haired blonde stood beside him. Where the hell had she come from? Arthur had looked behind him just a few moments earlier and there was no one there.

"Drop weapon," she said, pressing the blade a little more into Arthur's skin. He dropped the sword with a grunt. How dare someone make him follow orders.

"Now Arthur, let's talk somewhere more pleasant," Ivan said, having already put his metal pipe back under his jacket and produced handcuffs.

* * *

"Somewhere more pleasant" was Ivan's Zeppelin with the symbol of the world military on the side of it. The pale blonde, whose name was Natasha, held the dagger pointed at his lower back. She never gave him any leeway to escape, and Arthur was rather impressed. But if he wound up on the Zeppelin then he would never make it back to his ship. Arthur silently said his farewell to the isle wondering if his crew would come looking for him as the door the Zeppelin closed behind him and Natasha. He doubted it considering how fickle pirate loyalty was when power was up for grabs. Arthur knew he was on his own.

Being pushed inside, Arthur blinked at the strange yet familiar interior. The interior resembled that of a regular ship, with a large steering wheel, and other devices around to determine location if Arthur could make out the map correctly. It was strange to see something he had condoned as being frivolous and unnecessary; he was rather impressed at how little it really changed. Perhaps he should look into getting a Zeppelin once it was all over, but then again, he was getting rather tired of traveling around.

"This way," Ivan said, leading the way down a hallway. A nervous brown headed lad, who looked to be perhaps eighteen nodded his head at Ivan before returning to work.

Arthur wondered if the crew was rather afraid of Ivan. The man certainly had a menacing air about him, but so far Arthur could not tell if the man could back it up just yet. Testing the waters, Arthur followed a little closer to Ivan, only to have the knife pressed a little harder against his back.

"Get closer to my brother and you won't survive for long," the woman behind him said. Arthur determined that Ivan was not the one to be afraid of, but rather Natasha who held the knife.

"Right," Arthur said a little nervously, not wanting to provoke her any farther.

As Ivan led them through the hallway, Arthur noticed that the doors on the left were windowless, leaving Arthur to imagine anything atrocious in the rooms, from a band of more military police dogs, to weapons none have laid eyes upon. He finally stopped in front of a door and opened it, revealing two chains against a slab of wood in the middle of the room. So Arthur was to be tortured first? Huffing a little, Arthur walked in with his head held high. He already had scars from battles and from the one time Antonio had taken him hostage for various reasons before they were friends. Torture would be nothing new to him.

"Take a seat, Mr. Kirkland," Ivan said, waving off his sister Natasha and stepping into the room. Arthur looked around to see two stools and a table that had several knives on it. "Don't look so surprised."

"But I am." Arthur looked at Ivan, an eyebrow raised.

"I want to talk is all. I know how hard it must be to be a captain and have this power you possess," Ivan said slowly as the two took their seat. He started playing a knife.

"It's not that hard of a life if you've lived it long enough."

"Very true. Listen Arthur, I need your eye in order to heal my dying sister." The room was silent for a moment before Arthur let out the breath he had been holding. "Did I say something not right?"

"No, what you said is fine, but what makes you think kidnapping a person will actually merit you into getting a favour out of them?" Arthur shook his head and made to stand up, only to have Ivan block his way.

"This is no joke Kirkland. Heal my sister or you shall never see the light of day again." To emphasise the point, he brought the metal pipe back out. "There is a reason I brought you in here, in case you decided to not cooperate. Come now, surly you can heal my sister just as you have healed people for those on New Albion."

"So you know about that already. I hate to break it to you, but I went to them. They earned my trust and my loyalty. I'm afraid you have gained neither Mr. Braginsky. I believe it is time I left this ship since you have nothing to hold me here," Arthur said, with a small bow of his head and headed towards the door.

A searing pain burst from his back as he felt the metal pipe make contact, but what Arthur had originally thought to be just a regular pipe was actually a hidden sword. Cursing himself, Arthur faced Ivan, his eyes unfocused from the pain and sudden rush of adrenalin.

"You will do as I say Mr. Kirkland if you want to leave this ship alive. I know I can still use the power of the eye with or without you. So what is it going to be?" Ivan said, waving his sword in the air haphazardly. Arthur could tell from his stance Ivan was a beginner at swordplay, if only he had his own rapier, then it would be mere child's play.

"Sorry, you'll have to lock me up," Arthur said, laughing a little at the danger he was in. Ivan had to be bragging about knowing the secrets of the eye considering not even Arthur knew everything there was about it. Of course the faerie's eye would get him killed one day, but he had hoped he would have lived to be a rather ripe old man. Yet, here he was bleeding without any weapons.

"Fine, I shall return tomorrow," Ivan said, grabbing Arthur roughly before attaching the chains to his wrists to prevent Arthur from escaping. Without turning back, Ivan left the room.

* * *

A few hours later, night had fallen and Arthur could feel his shirt stick to his back thanks to the dried blood. He had to be careful not to move around too much, lest he open the wound again. Just as he wondered what was going to happen to him, the door opened and a rather tall gold blonde haired lad walked in. He looked to be around, Arthur's age, but his baby face made Arthur assume he was still fairly young.

"Captain Arthur Kirkland?" the lad ventured quietly, a bucket and rag in his hands as he stepped into the room. Arthur nodded, but gave him a glare as if to tell the lad this was all his fault Arthur was locked up and bloody. "Great! Are you badly hurt?"

Arthur blinked a few times before shaking his head. Sure it hurt, but most wounds felt worse than they really were. The lad came straight up to Arthur to set the bucket down. Next he removed the chains from one of Arthur's hand before inspecting the wound.

"Yeah, doesn't look too badly. I would say a few stitches in some of the deeper parts, but otherwise you'll be okay. Although it will probably leave a rather nasty scar," he said quietly as Arthur grunted in response. Arthur could care less about what scars he had.

"Wha—" Arthur's throat was rather dry and so croaked when he attempted to speak. He cleared it and tried again. "What's your name lad?"

"Alfred F. Jones at your service. Don't worry. I'll have you out of here pretty soon. I just needed to make sure your wound wasn't too bad," the lad said with a mock salute before going back to inspecting the wound.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur was confused as to who this lad was supposed to be. Escape was out of the question considering they were on a Zeppelin and miles away from New Albion or any other port by the look of the constellations in the sky.

"I'm talking about your big break-out of jail. I'll help you just like I helped that guy Antonio."

Arthur shivered at the feeling of the damp cold cloth cleaning his wound.

"Why?" Arthur did not trust this lad. What if this was just a trap to get Arthur right where Ivan wanted him?

"Because I hate working under Ivan and even the World Police. Just the other day we attacked a ship and we didn't even give them the choice to surrender. That is not how someone should run a military," Alfred said, a bitterness creeping into his voice.

"You are American are you not?"

"How could you tell?" Alfred said with a chuckle.

"Very funny, your sense of justice is so typical of Americans it sickens me. Lad you need to learn not everything is black and white, but rather grey," Arthur said, attempting to look at the lad who stubbornly hid behind Arthur's back to clean the wound. "You should leave me and leave the military if you hate it so much."

Alfred stopped cleaning Arthur's back. Remaining silent as Arthur stood there one arm still chained, he waiting for the Alfred to chain him back up and leave. If Arthur was the lad, he would do just that.

"I can't go back home," Alfred said barely above a whisper. Arthur was surprised he heard it over the humming of the Zeppelin which was constantly present. He preferred the sound of the wind.

"Why not lad?"

"Because it was burned down when some pirates came around demanding gold and food." Alfred placed the rag back in his bucket before sidestepping around Arthur to face him. "I didn't like those pirates and thought that I should join the military in order stop people like you from hurting someone. But then I met Antonio and another guy named Gilbert. After that I just couldn't hold the grudge anymore. Pirates have their own reasons for doing what they do. Some have betters reason than others, but still."

As Arthur listened, he could not help but think of his own situation and how he was forced to become a pirate because of his rather strange eye. If those in his home had not ostracised him, perhaps he would still be living with his family today.

"Smart lad, at least you understand that. Look, just leave me and get out of the military. Perhaps if you really wanted to, go join up with Gilbert or Antonio. I know Antonio is always looking for people to join him and I know he wouldn't make you do something you are uncomfortable with," Arthur said, feeling the throb of a headache coming on. He really just wanted Alfred to leave so he could get some rest.

Alfred grinned at Arthur for a moment. "You know, for a grumpy old guy, you're not half bad. We're busting you out tonight Artie."

Arthur sputtered for a moment at not only the ridiculous nickname, but also the insinuation that he was old.

"Pardon, but I'm only twenty-three thank you. As for that horrific nickname, my name is Arthur but to you, I'm Mr. Kirkland." Arthur huffed a little before glaring at Alfred.

"Of course Mr. Kirkland, the stuffy old grump," Alfred said with a boisterous laugh he quickly muffled before someone heard him.

Arthur smirked at the other. "So what's the plan Mr. Hero?"

"Oh I like that! And umm, I haven't really come up with a definite plan per say. But I have an aeroplane that I can use to get us out of here. The only thing, you need to ride on my lap because there isn't much room for more than one person. It was hell trying to get Antonio in but," Alfred said, looking Alfred up and down, "you should be able to fit no problem."

Glaring at Alfred again, Arthur placed his free hand on his hip.

"As if I'm going to actually go into an aeroplane and belittle myself like that. You have another thing coming—"

"It's just one time Arti—I mean Arthur. No one has to know," Alfred said before undoing the chains to Arthur's other hand. "Come on, we don't have that much time."

Arthur looked at the sudden outstretched hand. It was so cliché. Arthur had read it in several romance novels —he would swear never belonged to him, rather his mother—, but holding out a hand in such a dangerous situation was for the romantic scenes. Did this lad think he was sort of damsel in distress? Batting the hand away, Arthur strode to the door and peeked out to make sure the hallway was clear.

"Hurry up and lead the bloody way," Arthur said as he swung the door open a little further to allow Alfred to get out first.

The lad quickly made his way through the hallway, further from the steering room. There was a metal door that Arthur had not been expecting to see, but Alfred only shrugged declaring the door was metal because of the noise and equipment they used on the aeroplane. Opening the door, Alfred showed Arthur down steep steps before lighting a lantern to show Arthur the aeroplane.

"Here it is."

Arthur was unsure of what to really expect from a contraption that was supposed to fly, but the actual machine looked rather scary. He wondered how people enjoyed riding these things instead of using a ship, or why they turned away from magic to steam and diesel. It was certainly beyond him. But Arthur had to admit the mechanical beast seemed to be rather menacing with its wings tucked almost like a birds.

"Tell me. How in the bloody hell did you manage to get the thing on the Zeppelin and not sink the Zeppelin?" Arthur asked, venturing only slightly closer, knowing he would have to get in the thing soon enough.

"Simple, it's just the aether stones, but we use it to make the aeroplanes lighter. Not all Zeppelins will have aeroplanes, but some will. Before we can leave, we have to see Katya. She's the one in charge of the "hanger," you see," Alfred said, as he led to a small room Arthur had not noticed before.

It was dark inside the room, except for the small coughing from a rather well-endowed woman, sharing the same coloured hair as Natasha and Ivan. This was must have been Ivan's sister, the one who is sick. As if to answer the unspoken answer, a raspy breathing filled the air.

"Katya, I need you to open the hanger for me," Alfred said after shaking the poor woman awake from her sleep.

"Alfred hold on. Is this the one Ivan wanted me to heal?"

Alfred nodded his head, hovering the lamp to allow Arthur a closer look at Katya. She was deathly pale, but Arthur recognized the signs of the tuberculosis. A small smear of blood was still on her lips. She would not last long if Arthur did not do something.

"Alfred, I know this is sudden, but did you really mean it when you wanted to get away from the military police and such talk?" Arthur asked, his eyes never leaving Katya.

"I don't know, I mean maybe?"

"I don't need a wishy-washy answer lad! Tell me yes or no."

"Yes!"

"Good, then I'm going to heal Katya here because if I don't, she'll surely die on this god forsaken Zeppelin," Arthur said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, having already tossed his coat in the corner. "Just don't think I'm doing this because of Ivan, I just pity her because of the disease. It is downright horrible and not at all an appropriate way to die. Anyway, once I use my magic, I'll be drained of energy. You'll have to take over from there. Head to New Albion and look for Kiku or Francis. One of them will take us in until I'm better and we can figure out what to do from there."

"Roger!" Alfred said with another mock salute.

"It's aye, aye captain," Arthur said with a smirk as he gently eased Katya back onto the cot. "Just lay still for me."

Taking off the eye patch, he handed it to Alfred who was able to see the mint green colouring of his right eye before Arthur put his attention back to the woman who muffled a cough. Arthur muttered words of encouragement before closing his eyes for a moment. Pooling the magic from inside him to manifest in his outstretched hand, Arthur placed the orb of light onto Katya's chest. He pushed it slowly into her, allowing the light to spread throughout her body at his command. The transfer was almost complete, Arthur felt pain tighten his chest as he began to cough. With the ball of light gone, Arthur's energy spent on transferring the magic to Katya, made him fall to his knees. He continued his coughing fit for another few minutes before he slumped forward slightly, exhausted.

"Hold on there Artie," Alfred said, holding Arthur up gently. "How do you feel Katya?"

"Much better, but will he be okay?" Katya asked as she noticed Arthur leaning heavily on Alfred.

"I'll be fine, really. Just need some rest," he managed to say before he coughed for a small bit.

"I'll open the hanger, Al, be careful," Katya said with a gentle smile as she got up experimentally. Alfred watched her waver on her own feet for a moment as she picked up the coat Arthur had discarded earlier and draped it over him. "Take care of him."

"Sure thing. Tell Ivan I quit." Alfred said with a grin, holding Arthur a little tighter. Arthur wondered why the lad had not asked him why he had sudden coughing fits, but left the unspoken question unanswered.

"I know, it was bound to come."

Katya then went to the panel with a few levers on it, pulling a few this way and that as Alfred half dragged and carried Arthur to the aeroplane. Arthur was not ready to get in the contraption, but he knew it was either that or die on the Zeppelin. He encouraged Arthur into the plane, which took some effort on both their parts. Arthur had to hang onto the wing as Alfred got the cockpit ready and sat in the seat. When he motioned for Arthur to climb in, it took all his willpower Arthur could muster not to just flop into the cockpit and fall asleep right then and there. Instead, he slowly climbed and fell only slightly onto Alfred's lap, making the other winded for a moment.

"You know you're a bit heavier than I expected Artie."

"Shut it you daft American," Arthur said, getting comfortable in Alfred's lap, his eyes dropping. "Get moving. I'm done being a pirate. Francis and Kiku were right. Ah, and you said you helped Antonio right?"

Alfred nodded, concentrating on starting up the aeroplane.

"Find him if he hasn't returned when we get there. There are two Italians waiting for him."

"Whatever you say Captain," Alfred said, closing the cockpit.

It was a snug fit, but Alfred expertly managed to manoeuvre around Arthur's lithe body to navigate the different dials and levers on the aeroplane. Arthur felt the plane jerk forward uncertain, but soon saw the clouds rush past them in a blur. They were in the air and flying, thanks to Katya and Alfred. Seeing the stars through the window of the cockpit, Arthur found he liked the swirling patterns they made thanks to their speed.

"Go ahead and rest Arthur. I'll get you to the island," Alfred said. Arthur felt the warmth of his presence and entertained the thought of actually trusting the words of a stranger.

"You must be daft, I only just met you. How can I trust you?"

"You trusted me this far," Alfred said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"True."

Arthur coughed for a moment, blood coating his hand when he covered his mouth. He was sure the aggravation from moving around opened up the wound on his back as well. But as he closed his eyes and leaned a little closer to Alfred, Arthur wondered if it would make it.

The eye did not miraculously cure the person of the disease, but rather allowed the person who had the eye to retain the sickness. The ones Arthur had healed before were all minor sicknesses that Francis or Kiku had nursed Arthur through. It was under dire circumstance that he had actually used the magic. He helped Katya because she was a woman and tuberculosis was never a fitting end for someone. Besides, he was rather tired of running because of his eye. After he was gone there would no longer be a faerie's eye to find. Francis and Kiku would make sure of that.

Rumours said the sky captain of The Faerie's Queen had the faerie's eye. According to legends, the eye was the medicine for everything. A cure everyone sought after, but only one man possessed. And so when the world slowly turned from the steam engine to the apparently more efficient diesel engine and war was not far off between the countries, Alfred F. Jones flew to New Albion with a dying sky captain.

22


End file.
